The Last Straw
by Maegmel
Summary: Ron reminisces about the last battle and the results of it. Oneshot. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS.


A/N: Don't say I didn't warn you: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS.

**The Last Straw**

(Ron's POV)

It's been one year now, one year since that horrible day of June 23, 1998. Why is it so horrible you ask? Why am I not celebrating like everyone else has been for the last year since Harry Potter killed Voldemort?

The answer is quite simple really, because I lost the two people in the world who meant the most to me.

_FLASHBACK:_

"You'll never defeat me Potter…especially since that old fool mentor of yours is dead!" screeched Voldemort over the stench and explosions that made up the final battleground, his wand was currently locked into another bizarre connection with Harry's due to and _Avada Kedvra_ curse and _Stupefy_ being cast at the same time.

Hermione and I were standing together, watching with rapt attention and horror as the green jet of light inched closer and closer to Harry's wand.

"You underestimate me…_Tom_. I've already destroyed every horcux you ever created-yes-even Nagini and the Sorting Hat." Chocked out Harry as he struggled to force the green light back towards Voldemort.

Voldemort yowled an eerie sound and even I, one of the least magically attuned of the three of us could feel the anger pulsating from the Dark Lord, and suddenly the green bolt shot forward with new force.

Then, the last thing I ever expected to happen did.

Even time itself seemed to freeze when the prophecy finally fulfilled itself…

I felt a _whoosh_ of strong wind sweep past me on my right and I glanced back to see Hermione was gone. Like a flash of lightening or perhaps even quicker (she really _was _the brightest witch ever to step foot on this planet…), Hermione had pounced on Harry, and deprived him of his wand, which remained in her trembling, chilled blue fingers for the tiniest yet longest period of time I'd ever had the misfortune of sitting through.

With a flash of lightening and crack of thunder so loud that the earth cracked open, the green light struggling between both wands suddenly exploded with the most terrible ear-splitting screech and deepest howl I'd ever heard and engulfed both wand-holders.

The sparks didn't clear for a century it seemed, but when they did we saw-or I saw what was clearly two _very_ dead bodies.

My mind did not seem to function for the next few days, yet it finally seemed to sink in on the day of Hermione's funeral…that ever-so-dreaded June 23, 1998.

Harry had not uttered any word or sound since his heart-wrenching sob that rent my heart more than those flashes of lightening had cracked the earth. He had collapsed on her body sobbing for days until someone found us.

It was with great effort that he was pried off her body (having long since passed out he had still been clinging to her with a grip as hard as a diamond.)

She was transferred into her casket and was to be interned this very morning.

The sky was literally black, I have never ever seen such a sight in my life-yet there was no rain or wind just any over-whelming depressing inky black and the only light came from our candles.

Hermione was buried at Hogwarts, with a copy of _Hogwarts, a History_ the book she loved so much. It was only then, that my long-awaited tears came down in torrents as I gazed on the dead body of the girl I'd hoped might one day look on me as more than a friend.

For the first time in days Harry spoke, and ever so softly as they lowered her lifeless body into the ground. "Goodbye Hermione." He whispered.

In that second two major things happened. First I realized what I should have known all along…Hermione was the power Voldemort knew not. It was love, and her everlasting, pure and selfless love for Harry that finally finished what Lily Potter's had started so long ago. It was only possible for an _Avada_ caster to die by his own spell if someone sacrificed their life for the intended target. However, Lily's sacrifice didn't work that way because of the horcuxes, which now gone now left Voldemort vulnerable to Hermione's willing sacrifice. However, only the love of a parent or of a soul-mate could have been powerful enough to save Harry's life. It wasn't me intended for Hermione, but Harry…and you know what…after all his suffering he was the only one who truly deserved her.

The second thing that happened was this though, a very strong wind blew through and extinguished all our candles, but what it also swept away was so much more precious than our mere flickering lights.

That was the second in which I am convinced Harry James Potter Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World lost his mind.

_End Flashback_

Now I am sitting beside my long-time chess partner's bed in St. Mungo's. Harry would hate to know he was currently reduced to such a state, being restrained by magical ropes in a straightjacket so he doesn't try to bleed himself to death like last time by cutting his wrists with a paperclip.

Harry is currently unconscious, probably from banging his head repeatedly against his headboard. You see Harry is either one of two states when conscious.

In the first state he is trying to kill himself constantly, and pleads with all his visitors to kill him, or give him the means to do it himself.

The second state is perhaps even more sad than the first. In this state Harry believes he is married to Hermione and they have five children named: James, Lily, Ronald, Albus and Minerva. Harry often invites us to view an imaginary report card from Hogwarts for Albus, or he asks me to help him teach James about Quidditch. Harry and Hermione are very deeply in love while he is like this and he never even brushes his teeth without consulting his wife. All of Harry's other dead friends and family are there as well. Harry is often excited about introducing his new wife to his parents. According to my count they have been 'introduced' about 378 times. Just the other day Harry was telling me how difficult it was to keep 'this damned line of boys' off of young Lily, who has just reached the boyfriend/girlfriend age.

What does everyone else think of Harry's state? Well the wizarding world doesn't care half as much as they should, besides Harry's old news now. Just the other day I saw an article by Rita Skeeter in the _Daily Prophet_ calling him "our mindless hero." I punched the newspaper vendor to a pulp and burned all the copies I could get my hands on before sending Rita a lovely little card calling her a "mindless aspiring journalist" spelled out in dragon dung.

Mum and Dad are deeply upset and Mum keeps sending him "Get Well Soon" cards that start singing in the most obnoxious tones after about four weeks. Bill and Fleur visit whenever they are in town "Ees vrilli a shame." According to Fleur. Charlie died in the last battle, but I'm really more upset about Harry than him…does that make me a terrible brother? Percy well…he's not a Weasley anymore, the prat. The twins are always trying to come up with a new way to cure Harry of his madness, or at the very least his suicidal tendencies. They even named a line of products in memory of him and Hermione.

Ginny though, I'm not talking to. Why? Because she only visited Harry once, and Harry was in his "Hermione and I are married" mood and even told Ginny that Hermione wanted her to be her Maid of Honor. Ginny only stayed long enough after that to deduce that Harry remembered nothing of their relationship sixth year. She swore at him and slapped him across the cheek, to which Harry was incensed; seeming to think Ginny had slapped Hermione. I almost thought he was going to slap Ginny, but he stopped just in time. Harry never hits women.

So Ginny left after yelling after me she didn't "see why you are wasting yourself on such a hopeless wreck as Harry Potter."

A voice startles me from my reverie and I look down at Harry to see that he was looking imploringly at me, "Ron, could you please give me something to kill myself with?" he begs for the zillionth time.

_He must have guessed my reason for coming here today._ I thought. I reach into my pocket and pull out a knife I'd bought from a street vendor.

_Is this right, what you're doing?_ A voice asks me. _Hermione died to save his life._

Yes, but did she want him this way?

Gosh…why the fuck is life so complicated?

"Alright Harry," I say with a pause as Harry looks anxiously between me and the knife and it scares me the desire I can see in his eyes as he gazes at the weapon. "Harry, I'm not sure this is what I'm supposed to do, but I hate seeing you like this-and I don't think I can deprive you of Hermione any longer." I slice away Harry's magical ropes, amazed they are so vulnerable to muggle technology.

Harry sits bolt upright, and I can see he is struggling within himself not to rip the knife out of my hands right now, but he waits out of respect for what I'm trying to say.

"Hurry up Ron." Harry growls.

"I-I'm doing my best," I stutter, "Look by giving you this knife I'm in trouble too, and to tell you the truth I really don't care about that, but I'd rather not be tortured to death like they so often do to murderers now after you killed Voldemort. So here, let me kill myself first, then you can do whatever you want."

With all the concentration and control I have I force myself to plunge the blade into my stomach.

Everything feels warm and cold at the same time, and my vision goes hazy. I can only vaguely make out Harry thanking me, then slowly cleaning the blade before stabbing himself. Unlike me, Harry seems to die instantly and his eyes close with a peaceful smile on his lips. He is finally with Hermione.

I'm still lingering though, even as my life force drains from my veins at what must be an alarming rate. If you'll excuse me, I'm feeling a bit sleepy now I think I'll just close…my eyes…for a…second."


End file.
